


I'll Have What She's Having

by clarkes_murphy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, and gals wanting to be more than pals, and prolonged eye contact, basically lots of shameless flirting, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6742318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkes_murphy/pseuds/clarkes_murphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is stuck on the worst first date she's ever been on, Lexa's having a terrible time having dinner with someone she hates, and both of their nights get a hell of a lot better after they meet each other.</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>AU where we're at the same restaurant with different people but end up being more interested in each other by the end of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm pretty nervous about this because I've never posted anything on AO3 before, but I figured I'd give it a shot and post my newest piece on here. I really hope y'all like it!
> 
> Tumblr: clarkes-murphy  
> Twitter: clarkes_murphy

“…And then, Shelly took my clothes and threw them out of the window, but I wasn't going to take that lying down, so guess what I did? You’ll never guess. Okay, I’ll tell you. I took her favourite purse and…”

Clarke shuffled a little in her seat, smiling politely at the man sitting opposite her as he continued to talk. She nodded as if she was listening and then glanced quickly at her watch. 

9:23.

She’d been on a date with this man for over three hours now and all he’d done was talk about his ex-wife. She refrained from rolling her eyes when he launched into yet another story explaining why he should’ve been the one who kept the dog, instead looking around for their waiter. Her date noticed her wandering gaze and leaned forwards a little, his beady eyes fixed on her through strands of his matted hair.

“Do you want another drink? Maybe something else to eat? I can order us something to share, but I must warn you, I have a lot of allergies…”

Clarke quickly declined, taking a deep breath before forcing a smile onto her face. And so the man just continued to talk, hands gesturing wildly as he spoke through mouthfuls of spaghetti. One flail of his fork was particularly forceful and Clarke suddenly found her white blouse spattered with oily red sauce. The man’s face flushed.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry!” The man leaned over the table, knocking over her glass of wine in the process. “Please, let me help–”

“No, thanks,” Clarke brushed his hand away and stood up.

“Please, allow me–”

“Seriously, I’ve got it.” An edge had crept into her voice. 

The man lowered himself back down into his seat, cheeks tinged pink.

“I’m going to the bathroom to get cleaned up.” Clarke turned on her heel, walking away without another word. Breathing a sigh of relief (she was finally away from that gross excuse for a man), she entered the bright bathroom and made her way to the sinks. Her shirt – her brand new white shirt – was now garishly decorated with splashes of clumpy tomato paste.

“Fuck.”

She grabbed some tissues from the box by the sink and ran them under the tap before ducking into a stall. Dabbing at the stains proved pointless, though, and she found that the shirt looked even worse than it did before. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Um, is everything okay in there?”

Clarke froze. She hadn’t heard the bathroom door open. Glancing through the gap between the stall door and the cubicle wall, she caught a glimpse of a black leather jacket.

“Hello?”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. Yep, everything’s fine.”

The stranger paused. “Are you sure? It sounded like you were in distress.”

Clarke thought she was going to pass out from embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay.” 

She heard the sound of taps running followed by the hand dryer, and then the bathroom door banging shut. Clarke leaned her forehead on the cubicle wall, eyes screwed shut. 

“Shit.”

Straightening up, she glanced at her shirt once more before deciding that it was a lost cause. The door to the stall creaked open as she peeked out, making sure the stranger really had left before walking back out into the bathroom. Screwing up the soggy tissue in her hand, she tossed it into the bin before checking her hair in the mirror. She took a moment before leaving, hand grasping the door handle, eyes up as if she was praying. 

“Please just let this be over soon.”

Then she swung the door open, almost colliding with a small family about to enter the bathroom, and re-joined her date, who looked up from his phone and shot her a smile that was far too enthusiastic and was bordering on creepy.

“Everything okay?”

Even his voice made her skin crawl.

“Yeah, everything’s fi–”

_“...But I told you I can’t do those hours because I’m needed at the horse sanctuary, so why…”_

Clarke’s words died on her lips as she heard a voice floating across the room. She swivelled in her chair, trying to locate it. There. Sitting a few tables away, face half-hidden behind a curtain of curly hair, was possibly the cutest girl Clarke had ever seen. She listened again, ears focused on the stranger while her date rambled on, completely oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t listening to a word he was saying.

_“…Anyway I cleared it with Vince and he said it was fine so I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it…”_

It was her. The stranger from the bathroom. Clarke was sure of it. She didn’t know why this was so important, or why she even cared, but something was compelling her to talk to this girl. Only problem was, she was currently stuck at another table with a guy who was apparently the most boring guy on the planet, and she couldn’t think of a way to get rid of him. 

“So what do you think of it?”

Clarke blinked at her date. “What?”

“My idea, for the new app I’ve invented. What do you think?” He was staring at her, hands clasped on the table.

“Uh, yeah, I think the part about, uh,” Clarke made a vague gesture with her hands, eyes sliding over to look at the stranger once again, “y’know, the importance of it, and stuff, that was really good…”

“I knew you’d say that!” Her date beamed, smacking his palm loudly on the table. Clarke winced, eyes focusing on anything but him. They came to rest, once again, on the woman sitting a few tables away. 

Clarke watched as she delicately lifted her spoon to her mouth and found herself transfixed as the woman’s plump lips sipped up a bit of soup like it was a learned art. Placing her spoon back in the bowl, she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin while her eyes stayed focused on the person sitting opposite her. But then her head turned abruptly and her eyes were locked with Clarke’s, who blanched and wrenched her gaze away, forcing herself to look back at her date who had just shovelled a spoonful of salad into his mouth. Lettuce stuck to his teeth as he continued to speak. “And you think that’s good? Just wait until you hear about the book I want to write…” 

Crap. Clarke needed to escape. Not just so she could be freed from what was, without a doubt, the worst date she’d ever been on, but so she could find a way to talk to the beautiful stranger that she couldn’t stop glancing at every few seconds. Then an idea struck. 

“Could you excuse me for a moment?” she interrupted.

Her date nodded, picking up his wine glass and slurping some of the liquid into his mouth.

“Gross,” Clarke muttered. Standing up, she dropped her napkin onto her chair and sauntered over to the hostess, who smiled at Clarke from behind her podium-like table. 

“Good evening. May I help you with something?”

“Actually, yes,” Clarke leaned closer, voice low. “This is going to sound a little weird, but I need you to come over to my table and tell the guy I’m with that his ex-wife called and said that if he doesn’t go home immediately then she’s going to kill his dog.”

The hostess stared at Clarke, eyes wide. “…I’m sorry?”

“I need you to tell Mr Collins, the man I’m with–”

“No, no, I heard you.” 

Clarke stepped back a little, hands on her hips. “So can you do it?”

“I just– I’m not sure if– we don’t–”

The hostess stopped rambling when Clarke pressed a crisp twenty dollar bill into her hand. She stared down at the money for a moment before looking at Clarke with a determined gleam in her eyes.

“Dead dog, was it?”

Clarke smirked, winking at the hostess before returning to the table. Her date had just launched into a very detailed account of his divorce proceedings when the hostess came striding over, a piece of paper clutched in her hand.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you Mr Collins?”

Clarke’s date sat up a little straighter. “I am, yes.”

“We have a message for you. From your ex-wife.”

She handed him the paper. He read the message scrawled on it, eyes widening with panic.

“She’s gonna kill my fucking dog! Shit!” He shot out of his chair, running towards the exit without even a goodbye to Clarke, who tilted her head back as a grateful sigh whooshed past her lips.

“Thank you.” She smiled at the hostess, who shot her a quick smile back before resuming her post at the front of the restaurant. 

Leaning back in her chair, Clarke turned her head a little so she could see the stranger out of the corner of her eye. She also took notice of the person she was with – a woman who looked a little younger than the stranger and who had a scar trailing down her left cheek. Clarke watched them talk, saw the way they spoke closely in hushed whispers. She felt a surprising jealously flare up in her chest. She hadn’t stopped to consider that the other woman may have also been on a date. 

She sighed dejectedly and stood up, grabbing her bag before heading towards the bathrooms again. The mirror gleamed in the harsh bathroom light as she studied herself, groaning once more at the stains on her shirt that would probably never come out. Pulling her lipstick out of her bag, she applied a fresh coat, planning on texting Raven and seeing if she could stay at hers instead of having to go home. She didn’t feel like being alone tonight.

But her musing was interrupted by the slow creak of the bathroom door as it swung open. When she saw who was standing in the doorway, she jumped and her hand jerked to the side, lipstick smudging across her cheek.

“Fuck.”

“So it was you.” 

Clarke turned to see the stranger leaning against the doorframe, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Clarke found herself staring at her mouth, and had to drag her eyes up where they met stark green eyes that were watching her intently. Crap. Clearing her throat, Clarke grinned sheepishly and gathered up her things, not taking her eyes off the woman in the doorway.

“I recognise your voice.”

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up.

“I heard you, before,” the stranger continued, hands tucked into the pockets of her rolled-up jeans, “when you were, um, speaking to the hostess.”

“Oh my god.” Clarke wanted the ground to swallow her right there. “You heard that?”

“Yeah.” The stranger looked like she wanted to laugh. “The date was that bad, huh?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Sucks. But we’ve all been there. At least you got rid of him.”

Clarke nodded once, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“I’m Lexa, by the way.” 

Clarke liked the way her tongue clicked when she spoke her name. “Nice to meet you, Lexa. I’m Clarke.”

Lexa smiled. “Well, Clarke, it’s been lovely chatting with you but I’ve got to get back.”

Clarke’s shoulders slumped ever-so-slightly. “Back to your date?”

Lexa let out a snort. “Date? No way.”

Clarke felt her hopes rise a little once more. “Then who…?”

“That’s Ontari. She’s my cousin.” Lexa’s mouth twisted into a grimace.

“You don’t like her.”

“That’s an understatement.” Lexa ran her fingers through her hair; Clarke marvelled at how it sprung back into place, brushing against Lexa’s slender neck. 

“Can I ask why? Why you don’t like her, I mean.” Clarke was babbling, something she only did when she was nervous. 

“Because she’s an entitled brat who thinks she can boss everyone around and do whatever she wants without thinking about the consequences.” Lexa’s words were coated with sharp irritation. 

Before Clarke had a chance to respond, Lexa was striding into the bathroom, fingers rubbing at her temples as she paced back and forth in front of the stalls. “Besides, I don’t know where she gets off thinking she can tell me what to do. I’ve been helping dad with the business for much longer than she has, he trusts me way more than he trusts her, and who even said she could just swoop in and start working there because I’m pretty sure my mum doesn’t even like her that much so she probably just said yes to make her sister happy which is just crap because my aunt hasn’t even been that good of a sister to my mum so I really don’t understand why she had to come and work with us I mean I really don–”

Stepping into Lexa’s path, Clarke grabbed Lexa’s wrists and forced her to a stop. Lexa stared down at Clarke, shaking her head a little as if she’d just woken up from a dream.

“Oh, god.” Lexa mumbled. “Sorry about that.”

Clarke shook her head. “It’s okay. Everyone’s family drives them a little mad sometimes. I just didn’t expect you to get so… animated.”

Lexa’s chin dipped as she stared at the floor, her arms wrapped around herself.

“Lexa?”

“Yeah?”

Clarke took a tiny step towards her. “Do you… d’you wanna get out of here? Maybe go to that jazz bar down the street and get a drink?”

Lexa’s lips twitched as she raised her head. “With you?”

“Yes, with me,” Clarke chuckled.

“Yeah. Yes, okay,” Lexa nodded, eyes a little brighter.

Clarke turned to open the door, but stopped and spun back around to face Lexa. “Wait, what about your cousin?”

“Pfft, she’ll be fine,” Lexa scoffed. “Knowing her she’ll be too busy flirting with the waiter to even notice that I’m gone.”

“Well, okay then,” Clarke giggled, stepping towards the door once more.

“Hold on!” Lexa beckoned Clarke over to where she was leaning against the sinks. “I think there’s something we need to do first.” She stepped closer until they were almost touching, her lips so close to Clarke’s that she could feel their breath mingling in the air. Clarke’s heart sped up in her chest – was Lexa going to kiss her? The room was silent apart from the soft whirring of the extractor fan above their heads. Lexa’s hand reached up to cup Clarke’s face. Clarke’s eyes slid shut and her lips pursed while her heart hammered a beat against her ribcage and she prepared herself for Lexa’s kiss...

But her eyes shot open seconds later when she felt a coarse material rubbing across her lips. She saw Lexa standing in front of her, saw the scrunched up tissue in Lexa’s hand, which was now streaked with red lipstick, and realised her mistake.

“Oh my god. You… you were going to wipe my lipstick off, weren’t you?”

Lexa smiled softly, replying with a quiet “Mhmm.”

Clarke bent her head. “Wow. I’m such an idiot.”

Lexa stepped even closer and lifted Clarke's chin with her finger. “You’re not an idiot.”

“I am,” Clarke mumbled. “God, I must look like a fucking clown right now. Jesus.”

“Cutest clown I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Clarke met Lexa’s gaze then, seeing the sincerity in the other woman’s eyes. She felt the blush spreading across her skin and fought back a smile when Lexa reached up and began wiping away the lipstick remains. Clarke enjoyed the feeling of Lexa’s gentle fingers on her skin (a bit too much, she thought) and held still until Lexa stepped back with a satisfied smile on her face.

“There. All done.”

“Thanks,” Clarke murmured, bashful all of a sudden.

They smiled at each other for a second too long and then Lexa looked away, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. 

“So, uh, how about that drink?”

“Sure,” Clarke nodded, holding the door open for Lexa.

They headed out through the restaurant, ducking behind a large potted plant when Ontari looked their way, before sneaking out through the entrance, Clarke shooting the hostess a smile before they walked out into the brisk night air. They walked shoulder-to-shoulder, hands brushing until Clarke reached out and intertwined Lexa’s fingers with her own. 

She heard Lexa’s breath hitch in her throat and fought to contain the smile that pulled at her lips. 

The walk to the bar was a short one, and Clarke was disappointed when they got there and Lexa let go of her hand. But her disappointment dissolved quickly when they found a booth tucked away in the corner and Lexa opted to sit next to her instead of opposite. She could feel the warmth radiating off of Lexa’s body and shuffled closer without thinking. 

She felt Lexa tense beside her. Clarke opened her mouth, an apology ready on her tongue, but then she felt Lexa’s arm snake around her waist and she was pulled even closer, until there was barely any room left between them at all.

“So…” Clarke whispered.

“So.” Lexa whispered back.

They spent the rest of the night like that, wrapped up in each other in their own little bubble away from the rest of the world. They stayed until closing time, the barman smiling apologetically as he told them that they had to leave. And they did, Clarke holding the door for Lexa once more as they headed out into the night. 

“So, uh, I live about five minutes from here so I can walk home,” Clarke began after they’d walked a few paces, “but I can call you a taxi if you need one?”

“That’d be great, yeah.”

Clarke nodded and found the number for the taxi company in her phone, finding it impossible to hold Lexa’s gaze as she held her phone up to her ear. Those eyes, they were like kryptonite – if she looked at them for too long, Clarke was sure she wouldn’t survive. The taxi arrived ten minutes later as the two of them were huddled under the restaurant canopy, Lexa’s arm linked with Clarke’s.

“I guess this is me,” said Lexa, untangling herself from Clarke who was sure she could hear something like regret in Lexa’s voice. Clarke watched as she went over to the taxi, leaning down to speak to the driver through the open window. Moments later and she was moving to open the door, but Clarke tapped her on the elbow before she could climb in. Lexa turned expectantly. 

“Um, so, I was wondering if, maybe, you’d like to do this again sometime, maybe tomorrow? Like, get drinks, hang out. Only if you want to, of course. I mean, you might have other plans or other friends to hang out with and if that’s the case then that’s totally okay–”

“I’d love to.” The words left Lexa’s mouth in a rush and Clarke found herself beaming.

“Okay, great. Um, could I have your number? Then I can text you or call you or whatever and we can arrange a time and place to meet and it’ll just be much easier that way I think…”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Lexa chortled, as Clarke’s rambling faded out. 

They exchanged numbers, Clarke’s fingers lingering on Lexa’s for a moment longer when handing her back her phone. Then Lexa climbed into the taxi and Clarke leaned her arms through the open window, smiling.

“Well, tonight was fun. It was wonderful to meet you, Lexa.”

Lexa smiled a smile that made Clarke go weak at the knees, before replying: “It was wonderful to meet you too, Clarke. See you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Their eyes locked only to be interrupted seconds later by the humming of the taxi’s engine being switched on. 

“Until then,” Clarke said, quickly taking Lexa’s hand in her own and planting a soft kiss on her knuckles.

Lexa smiled shyly, pulling her hand back to wave at Clarke as the car drove away from the curb. Clarke watched the car until the headlights faded away into the darkness, and then started walking home, grinning from ear to ear. Pulling out her phone, she typed out a quick message to Raven asking if she was still awake and if she wanted to hear about Clarke’s incredible night. Raven replied with a “Hell yeah!!!” that had Clarke laughing as she dialled her best friend’s number, unable to keep the huge smile off her face the entire way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this was meant to be a one-shot but a few of you asked for a second chapter and y'all were just so nice about it that I couldn't say no! So here it is, chapter two :) I hope y'all enjoy it!

Clarke was surprised when Lexa suggested the same restaurant where they’d met for their first date the next evening. But her confusion soon turned to butterflies in her stomach when she read Lexa’s follow-up text:

**I want you to remember that restaurant fondly, and not have it ruined by memories of that oh-so-charming Mr Collins.**

She typed out a quick reply and then hurried to get ready, heart thumping in her chest. Her gaze fell on her stained white shirt, crumpled up on the floor in a heap where she’d left it all night. Rolling her eyes, she bent and scooped it up, tossing it in her bedroom bin before scurrying into the bathroom to sort her hair out. A short while (and a frustrating battle with a curling iron) later, and she was dressed and ready to go. She’d chosen a black skirt accompanied by a deep purple blouse and a pair of black kitten heels, opting for a smarter look than the outfit that Lexa had first seen her in. 

Tossing her keys and phone into her bag, she paused by the front door, jacket in hand and eyes fixed on the ceiling, just like they had been the previous night in the bathroom.  
Only this time, she wasn’t praying for a way out. This time, she was hoping for things to go well. Even though she’d only just met Lexa, and they barely knew each other at all, Clarke felt a connection with her, and she really didn’t want to screw things up. 

Taking one final deep breath, she stepped out into the hallway and locked the door behind her, veins already pumping with nervous adrenaline as she began the descent down into the lobby of her apartment building. 

Seven minutes later and she’d arrived at the restaurant. She smiled at the hostess (who was not the same one who’d helped her get rid of Finn the night before, but seemed just as friendly) and waited by the entrance. A minute or so passed and the hostess returned from seating a group of three who had just arrived, and she glanced at Clarke curiously. 

“May I help you with something?” 

“Oh, um, yes,” Clarke fumbled with her bag, fingers clasping around her phone, “I’m supposed to be meeting someone here, but I don’t think she’s here yet?” 

“And who is it that you’re meeting?” 

“Her name is Lexa. Lexa Woods?” Clarke had her phone in her hand now, ready to call Lexa and see where she was. 

“Oh yes, Miss Woods. She’s already inside, she’s been waiting for you,” the hostess smiled. “Follow me, please.” 

“O– okay,” Clarke nodded, slipping her phone back into her bag, hands now shaking a little. 

She trailed behind the hostess as they weaved through the maze of tables, coming to a halt in the centre of the restaurant. 

“Our best spot,” the hostess said, nodding to the two-seater table that was positioned under a magnificent gleaming chandelier. 

“Wow,” Clarke breathed. Her eyes trailed upwards, noticing the intricate artwork that adorned the ceiling. She certainly hadn’t seen any of this when she was stuck in a gloomy corner with Finn last night. 

“Clarke!” 

She turned to see Lexa walking towards her, cheeks tinged pink as she slowed, eyes wandering up and down Clarke’s body for a moment. 

“Hey, Lexa.” 

Clarke couldn’t keep the smile off her face as Lexa beamed at her, pulling out her chair for her and gesturing for her to sit down before taking her own seat across from Clarke. 

“Sorry, I went to ask the chef about tonight’s specials. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” 

Clarke shook her head. 

“Good. So, did you have a nice day?” Lexa asked, her eyes full of intrigue. 

Clarke paused for a moment – she couldn’t remember a time when anyone had been so attentive, so full of anticipation to hear what she had to say. 

“Clarke?” 

“Yeah?” 

Lexa laughed. “I asked how your day was.” 

“Oh,” Clarke chuckled, “Yeah, it was good. Did some errands, cleaned my apartment, went for a jog. What about you?” 

The conversation continued like this for a while, flowing comfortably as they traded stories while choosing what to have to eat. Lexa decided on a smoked salmon starter followed by a steak and salad for her main course, while Clarke ordered tomato soup to begin with (some of which she offered to Lexa – she then had to fight to hide her blush as she watched Lexa’s lips suck gently on the spoon) followed by chicken and pesto pasta. The meal was delicious, but Clarke found herself hungering for Lexa more than the food as she listened to her soft voice and gazed into those alluring green eyes. 

During the meal they had gravitated towards each other without noticing, until Clarke’s elbows were resting on the table and Lexa’s head was hovering close to hers while they spoke. A moment passed where no words were said and they simply looked at each other. Clarke felt something spark between them in that moment and had to lean back, catching Lexa’s wry smile as she also sat back a little in her chair. 

“So, Clarke, do you have a favourite song?” 

“Why?” Clarke frowned. 

“Well, I’d like to get to know you better, and asking questions about people is usually a pretty good way of achieving that,” Lexa laughed, spearing her steak with her fork and deftly cutting off a piece while she waited for Clarke’s answer. 

“Okay, well, I can’t say that I have one absolute favourite song, but I do have a list of songs that I’ve loved for a really long ti–” 

Clarke’s words were interrupted by raised voices coming from the entrance of the restaurant. 

“…I already TOLD you, I was here last night and I left in a rush and forgot my wallet!” 

“I understand, sir, but we’re going to need some form of ID to prove this wallet is yours before we–” 

“I don’t have any god damn ID, you idiot, it’s in my fucking wallet which is currently in your hand!” 

Clarke’s eyes locked with Lexa’s. “Oh, crap. It’s Finn.” 

“Who?” 

“Fi– Mr Collins. My, uh, my date from last night.” 

Lexa’s eyes widened. “Let’s go.” 

She stood quickly, shoving a wad of bills under the water jug before grabbing Clarke’s hand. 

“Wait, Lexa, I can’t let you pay for th–” 

“We don’t have time for this, Clarke.” Lexa’s words were clipped and there was a firmness in her voice that sent pleasant shivers through Clarke’s body. 

Lexa grabbed Clarke’s hand, intending on leading her round the back of the restaurant. 

(Clarke couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all – twice she’d been in this restaurant, and both times she’d had to run away from someone with Lexa in tow. This was starting to become a very strange habit). 

Clarke was so focused on getting out of there that she didn’t see the walking stick jutting out from under a table a few paces ahead of her, and she went sprawling onto her front as her foot snagged on the tablecloth and brought plates and glasses crashing to the floor along with her. 

“Shit.” 

“Clarke, are you okay?!” Lexa rushed to her side, crouching to help Clarke sit up. “You’re bleeding.” Lexa’s eyebrows knitted together with concern as she grabbed a napkin from beside her and pressed it gently to Clarke’s temple. 

“…Clarke?” Finn’s voice carried across the room. 

The people around them had stopped eating and were all watching as Finn came striding across the restaurant while Lexa helped Clarke to her feet. He stared at them, eyes flitting from Clarke to Lexa until they narrowed, the corners of his mouth turning down into a grimace. 

“Nice. Real nice.” 

“Finn, wait–” 

“Shut up.” 

Clarke took a step back as he advanced closer, teeth almost bared in a snarl. 

“You must think I’m really stupid.” 

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. 

“Not only do you lie to me to get rid of me last night, but then you come back to the same restaurant a day later with someone else? With a WOMAN? What are you now, some kind of gross dyke?” 

Lexa stepped in front of Clarke. “Back off.” 

“Oh, isn’t that sweet,” Finn leered, “You’ve got your girlfriend here to defend you.” 

“Just stop, Finn. Go before you embarrass yourself.” Clarke tried to keep her voice steady but it wavered when he stepped closer again. 

Lexa reached back to thread her fingers through Clarke’s. 

The hostess tapped Finn on the shoulder. “Sir, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing our clients.” 

Finn brushed her off. “I’ll leave when I get my wallet. And an explanation from her.” He levelled a pointed look at Clarke, stepping past the debris littered across the floor until he was only a few steps away from her and Lexa. 

“Sir, I really must ask you to leave,” the hostess tried again. 

But Finn ignored her completely, advancing on Clarke. “Just tell me, Clarke. What happened?” 

Lexa placed herself firmly in between Finn and Clarke as he got closer. 

“Am I too much of a man for you, is that it? Did you realise that I’m too good for you, so you had to settle for this… this whore?” 

Lexa snapped. Launching herself forwards, she lunged at Finn, knocking the breath out of him as she swung her elbow up and it connected with his jaw, a loud cracking sound reverberating across the room. She scrambled up onto his chest after he landed on his back, using her knees to keep his arms locked down as she grabbed his face with one hand, forcing him to look into her eyes. 

“Listen, Mr Collins,” she spat, “I let you off easy this time. But if you ever harass Clarke again, it’ll be more than your jaw that’s going to be broken. Understand?” 

Finn nodded once, blood trickling down his chin. 

“Good.” Lexa stood, aiming a sharp kick at Finn’s ribs before brushing herself off. 

All of a sudden the doors to the restaurant burst open and two policemen strode in, rushing over to where Lexa was standing over Finn. 

“Everything alright here?” One officer spoke, confusion in his eyes. “We got a call from Niylah that there was a man causing a disturbance. This him?” 

He gestured to Finn before looking over at the hostess, who nodded. 

“Alright, let’s get him out of here.” 

Finn let out a groan as the policemen pulled him to his feet, head lolling a little to one side. Lexa watched them escort him out before turning back to Clarke, who was sheet-white and shaking a little. 

“Clarke?” Lexa’s voice was gentle. “Are you okay?” 

Clarke nodded, her breathing slowing as Lexa inspected her injuries, delicate fingers skimming over Clarke’s face. 

“It doesn’t look too bad, thank god. I’m going to take care of you for the night though, make sure nothing serious comes of it.” 

Clarke’s eyes snapped up. “Oh, no, you don’t have to–” 

“It’s okay, Clarke. I want to.” 

Clarke smiled despite the throbbing pain in her temple. 

“Wanna get out of here?” 

Clarke nodded. 

“Alright, let’s go. My car’s parked right outside.” 

Lexa looped her arm around Clarke’s waist as she guided her out of the restaurant. They paused at the door so Lexa could murmur a quiet “thank you” to Niylah, who smiled before gathering the waiters to assist her in cleaning up the mess that had been made. 

Lexa helped Clarke into the passenger seat, leaning over her to grab the seatbelt and pull it over Clarke’s chest. Clarke felt Lexa’s body brush against her own and felt another throb pulse through her body – but this one wasn’t painful, like the throbbing in her head, and she had to clench her legs together as Lexa’s face passed within inches of her own. 

The drive to Lexa’s was spent in comfortable silence. Clarke leant her head against the window, enjoying the sensation of the cool glass on her flushed skin, while Lexa kept her eyes on the road, concentration only straying once or twice when she glanced over at Clarke. 

They reached Lexa’s in just over twenty minutes. Clarke was led up a flagstone pathway and onto the porch of a bungalow. It was small but beautiful, her feet sinking into plush crimson carpet as Lexa guided her down a narrow corridor and into a cosy sitting room. 

“Your place is amazing,” Clarke said as she sunk back into the luxurious leather sofa while removing her jacket, marvelling at the lavish art that hung on the walls. 

“Thank you.” Lexa busied herself with propping up pillows for Clarke before disappearing for a moment, returning with a glass of water and two white pills. “For the headache. They'll help you sleep later.” 

Clarke accepted both, smiling gratefully before washing down the tablets in one gulp. 

“Lexa?” 

“Hmm?” Her back was to Clarke as she crouched by the fireplace, poking at the orange embers until small flames appeared. 

“Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?” 

Lexa stood, turning to Clarke. “Mixed martial arts classes. I’ve been going for about ten years now.” 

She perched on the sofa next to Clarke, smiling a little. 

“How’s your head?” 

“A little better, thanks.” 

They lapsed into momentary silence. 

“Do you–” 

“How about–” 

Both girls giggled, Clarke gesturing for Lexa to speak first. 

“Uh, I was going to ask if maybe you wanted to watch a movie?” She averted her gaze, staring down at the sofa. “Just until the pills start to kick in, y’know, then I’ll drive you home when you want to go, unless you want to go now, in which case–” 

“A movie sounds great.” 

Lexa smiled before getting up and crossing to the large windows that looked out across the front garden, below which sat a sleek wooden cabinet filled with DVDs. They quickly settled on a cheesy rom-com and then Lexa resumed her position on the sofa, keeping a little distance between them. That didn’t last long though, and soon Clarke was scooting over to nuzzle into Lexa’s side, Lexa’s body tensing for a split second before her arms were encircling Clarke and she was pulling her closer. 

They stayed like this for about an hour, Lexa’s arms around Clarke while the movie played out on the large flat screen TV. But then Lexa felt Clarke shift beside her and vibrations shot through her when Clarke pressed her nose into her neck and kissed her softly, her breath catching between her teeth. 

“Is this okay?” Clarke whispered. 

Lexa could only nod as Clarke kissed her once more, her lips leaving trails of goosebumps along Lexa’s skin. And then it all became too much and Lexa turned, capturing Clarke’s lips with her own in a tender kiss. It was slow and tentative and breathy, Clarke’s hands coming to rest on Lexa’s thighs as she hovered above her. 

“Clarke…” 

Clarke pulled back a little, gazing down at Lexa. 

“I– would you like to stay tonight?” Lexa’s voice was small. 

But her nerves faded away when Clarke answered “I’d love to”, before sinking back down and kissing Lexa once more. They stayed like that for a while, Clarke’s body pressed down onto Lexa’s, their lips saying all the words their voices were too afraid to speak. Then the room was plunged into darkness as the movie finished and Clarke raised herself up, hands on either side of Lexa’s head. She pushed until she was sitting up, Lexa sitting up next to her. 

“Whoa. I think these pain pills are really starting to work now,” Clarke giggled, swaying a little. 

Lexa chuckled. “Okay, I think that’s your cue for bed. Come on, beautiful.” 

She slid one arm under Clarke’s back and helped her to her feet, Clarke staggering a little, her head dropping onto Lexa’s shoulder. They stumbled out of the sitting room and down the corridor, Lexa silently thankful for the lack of stairs in her home. She shoved her way into her dimly lit bedroom, taking Clarke over to her double bed and lying her down, keeping her hand beneath Clarke’s head and guiding it onto one of the pillows. Then she trotted around to the end of the bed, removing Clarke’s shoes and placing them next to the chair on which she’d slung Clarke’s jacket. 

“Hmm…” Clarke shuffled a little, grasping the duvet with one hand, “Lexa…” 

Lexa rushed over, crouching beside the bed. “Clarke? What’s wrong?” 

“S’cold,” she mumbled, face half-pressed into the pillow, “Need cuddles.” 

“Oh,” Lexa paused for a moment before removing her own shoes and clambering in next to Clarke, pulling the duvet over both of their bodies. 

She lay still for a moment, breathing heavy, until Clarke’s hand snaked back and found Lexa’s, pulling it until Lexa’s arm was draped over her torso. Clarke then shuffled back until her body was pressed against Lexa’s, all warmth and softness. Lexa leaned in to press a kiss to Clarke’s shoulder, smiling against her skin. 

“Goodnight, Clarke,” she whispered, breath ghosting across Clarke’s cheek. 

“G’nigh,” Clarke slurred, pulling Lexa’s arm around her even tighter before her breathing grew heavy and she lost herself to sleep. 

Lexa followed soon after, the steady rise and fall of Clarke’s chest soothing her until her eyelids slid shut and her hold on Clarke’s hand grew slack. But her fingers remained tangled with Clarke’s until the next morning, when the light shone through the slats in the blinds and Clarke’s face was illuminated in the soft golden glow of the sun, and Lexa finally realised what her father had meant when he’d said that people could be works of art too. 


End file.
